Do You Really Get Fangs?
by elmo undead
Summary: Short little ff of MWPP & when they find out about Remus being a you-know-what. ;-) Anyway, it's really short--took me ten minutes to write--but I hope you like it all the same.


Do you really get fangs?  
. . . 'Cause I think that's cool.  
© J. K. Rowling All Rights Reserved, 1999-2003  
© Carly Cleghorn, All Rights Reserved, 2003  
  
Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew were sitting in the Gryffindor common room playing chess. Or, James was trying to teach Peter how to play with Peter losing sorely, while Sirius tried to finish his already late Transfiguration homework, read a book about Magical Creatures, insult the Slytherins, and comment on every move either one of his friends made extremely loud, especially when someone would lose a piece--by someone, I mean Peter.  
  
"Ha ha! Pete, you're gonna loose!" Sirius cried, as James took Peter's remaining black Knight off the board.  
  
"Don't call me Pete," Peter said through gritted teeth, frowning at the board. Cautiously, Peter moved his Bishop three squares.  
  
"Check," James said proudly, as the white Queen broke the black Bishop in half.  
  
Peter groaned. James just grinned apologetically.  
  
"Show no mercy, James," Sirius muttered, scribbling down how it took exactly three minutes before one could restore a frog back to its natural state after the topic curse was performed.  
  
"Thanks for the support, Sirius," Peter grumbled.  
  
"Ahh, any time," Sirius grinned, unaware of how annoyed Peter was.  
  
"Checkmate," James said, grinning.  
  
"Ughh, you won. Again," Peter groaned, sliding down in his chair.  
  
"Don't worry about it, Peter," Sirius said cheery. "He's Potter the Perfectionist, remember? Perfect, at chess, with girls--"  
  
"Except Lily," James muttered.  
  
"--At Qudditch--" Sirius' face broke off into an evil grin. "Do you remember what the Slytherins' faces looked like after you caught the Snitch yesterday? That was priceless!" Sirius cackled.  
  
James laughed to, and then stopped suddenly. "I wish Remus could've seen it though. Have you seen him since this morning? He looks dreadful. That must've been one hell of a cold. Bet Madame Pomfrey had a field day, trying to get him well in under a day."  
  
Sirius frowned as he flipped absently through the book. "He . . . he wasn't there yesterday."  
  
"What?!" Peter squeaked.  
  
"How would you know?" James asked suspiciously.  
  
"How else? My detention from Kettleburn was to clean out the bed pans in the Hospital Wing. He wasn't there all night."  
  
"Well . . ." James frowned in worry for his friend. "He couldn't have just been sick and tried to recover on his own." James brow furrowed as he saw mental images of his insecure friend coughing frightfully in a deserted classroom.  
  
"I think it has something to do with that scar," Sirius said, writing in his messy print the answer of why one should never try to turn anything into a frog. He wrote down: One should never turn anyone or anything into a frog because it is rude, slimy, and gross. Unless, of course, the certain someone or thing did something to provoke one, then the turning of a being into a frog is completely necessary.  
  
"What . . . scar?" Peter asked, eyes wide with fear.  
  
Sirius looked up. "Haven't you guys ever seen it? It's about this big--" Sirius held his hands apart to demonstrate. "Has, like . . . bite marks or scratches all over it. And looks like it's been burnt onto his skin, so it must've been there a while.  
  
James and Peter gawked.  
  
"What? I'm serious; it looks like something--a rabid dog--attacked him when he was little or something. Like a wolf or a coyote--some massive dog. Like a . . . a . . ." he trailed off, caught up in his book and how it described werewolves sometimes having a scar from the night they were attacked. A huge one, with bruised skin around it . . . just like Remus, Sirius thought.  
  
"Werewolf," Sirius whispered.  
  
"What?!" James asked, taken aback.  
  
"A werewolf! I think Remus is a werewolf. It makes sense!" Sirius whispered quickly.  
  
"No, Sirius, it doesn't," James muttered frantically. "It doesn't at all. Can you picture quiet, reserved Remus becoming a bloody-thirsty monster?"  
  
"Well, what about all those weird excuses? 'My mum's fallen ill, and I need to go home and see her.' Or 'I feel really under the weather today, guys. I think I need to see Madame Pomfrey.' And then turning up the next day for classes.  
  
"But--"  
  
"And, of course he'd be quiet! He'd be afraid of someone finding out what he is and freaking out, telling everybody they could."  
  
"Yeah, but--"  
  
"He'd probably be expelled if anybody complained!" Sirius was breathing heavily.  
  
"Well, then, we should keep this to ourselves," James reasoned.  
  
"No!" Sirius cried, standing up. "We have to go find him. Now!"  
  
  
  
Remus Lupin, frowning into the book in front of him as he read that werewolves craved human flesh. Golden hazel-eyed boy had read this before, of course, but it made werewolves sound evil in both forms. He didn't crave human flesh . . . did he?  
  
Raising his head often in the library was something Remus did not do unless he was looking for someone, so it took until James gave a loud "Ahem. . . ?" until he raised his head.  
  
James looked stiff, Peter looked frightened, and Sirius looked like he was about to wet himself with anticipation if he had to stand there any longer. Remus' friends had never looked at him like that before . . .  
  
They know Remus thought. He gasped and ran toward the exit of the library, ducking in between bookshelves to try and give them the slip.  
  
He failed miserably as Sirius, who often had to run for his life as he was always picking fights with Slytherins, pinned him to the ground and started howling like mad.  
  
"Ahhhooo! Ahhhh-OOOO!!!! ARF! ARF! ARROOOOOOOO!!!!!"  
  
"Sirius, you great prick, get off of him," Remus heard James yell, shoving Sirius off his back.  
  
He was relieved as the weight was brought off his still-sore back from last night, but he knew that he now had no means of escaping. He hung his head low and, much to his embarrassment, felt a white-hot tear fall from his eye.  
  
"I'm sorry. You can go tell the Gryffindor Common room what kind of dangerous monster, now. I get it. I'll go talk to Dumbledore now," Remus muttered, wishing he could disappear.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Sirius asked, his grin fading, but only slightly so.  
  
"What d'you mean?" Remus asked, looking up.  
  
"I think it's totally cool. Do you really get fur, and fangs . . . and a tail?" Sirius asked.  
  
"Uhhh. . ." Remus looked questionably at James and Peter.  
  
"Oh, forget about those dunder-heads," Sirius said, waving his hand absently. "Now, when you get mad, do you bark or bite? What's it feel like? What do you look like once you've changed? Where do you do? The Forbidden Forest? That would be so cool!!!"  
  
"Sirius! Let Remus breathe," James said, pulling his friend up by the collar of his shirt.  
  
"So . . . ? So . . . you guys are okay with it? Does it matter?" Remus asked, getting a little hopeful.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," James said. "If Sirius doesn't clam down, his heart'll probably explode. But I'm sure Peter's fine with it too." Peter nodded in agreement.  
  
"Promise you won't tell anyone? Anyone," Remus asked.  
  
Peter shook his head feverishly.  
  
"Cross my broom, hope to fly, stick a bludger in my eye," James recited.  
  
"I promise I won't tell nobody, Moony," Sirius proclaimed.  
  
"Moony?" Remus asked, raising his eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah, perfect name for a werewolf, don't ya' think?" Sirius asked.  
  
James, Peter, and Remus laughed.  
  
"Right, Sirius," Remus said.  
  
"Anyway, can you answer my questions now?" Sirius asked. "What do your fangs look like? How long are they? How long's your tail? Can you teach me how to howl?"  
  
Remus laughed again.  
  
"Maybe in a few years, after that puppy-sized brain of yours has grown."  
  
  
  
Of course, three years later, Moony answered all of Padfoot's questions. 


End file.
